For those of you
who like me
were born in 1983,
it's already 2008!
How does time
still manage to fly
when everyday
I feel that
my life is bolted to the
firm and solid earth
as though under some
restraining order,
told to put off living
until the truly important things
are accomplished –
studies, career, wealth?
What happened to 1988,
when,
five years old,
I dreamt of becoming a policeman,
like so many other young boys
without trees to climb?
And 1998,
when,
all of fifteen
and caught up in
adolescent rebellion,
I wanted to become a
rock guitar player,
because at fifteen
almost everything
is still possible?
Why is it that
when today arrived
ten years later
I still find myself
waiting,
putting off
to yet another tomorrow
my accumulated
ambitions and aspirations?
Will I really be older and
wiser, more established,
more secure?
The clocks keep spinning
and the world turns away.
- 22 March 2008
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A bit of poetry
Check these out
Poem of the moment
- Poem for the girl on my left arm -
It's warm beneath the sheets and
already bright outside.
Opening my eyes i brush away
Strands of hair
That during the night had drifted
Across my chest.
I turn my head
And see eyelids slightly pale,
Half asleep, clamped indignantly shut
Against the light dripping through the blinds.
I shelter them with my shadow,
Then splash
A gentle kiss.
It's warm beneath the sheets and
already bright outside.
Opening my eyes i brush away
Strands of hair
That during the night had drifted
Across my chest.
I turn my head
And see eyelids slightly pale,
Half asleep, clamped indignantly shut
Against the light dripping through the blinds.
I shelter them with my shadow,
Then splash
A gentle kiss.
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May
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- Still life
- Speak for yourself
- Ang Mo Kio Blk 424
- Note to the annual six hundred:
- Some things don’t change
- 云山 2:30pm
- Booking out blues
- Smart Casual
- The imaginary line
- Birds
- Our Space
- Feeling cheated
- Other side of Kovan
- Stories and clichés
- Lazy Saturday morning
- Jazz and Poetry
- Life!
- Three Green Lights
- 22nd March 2008
- Happy Daze Bar
- Empty days
- Débussy in the morning
- Pétaouchenok
- Aging air-conditioner
- A simple observation
- Life is fair
- As the day mellows
- Frustration and I
- Caught in the rain
- Painting a new memory
- Wingline at 2137 hrs
- Joy in a watercolour sky
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1 comment:
I wanted to be a policeman too when I was a kid. I remember in primary school, there were these worksheets with the top half blank and the bottom half for, what, 30, 50 word compositions? The top half of course I drew a policeman and got to colour it too. I really identified with this poem, what I've felt before and am going through still. Its nice to have your feelings expressed by someone else, its almost magical.
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